


Remembered

by lunarknightz



Series: Death of Supermanverse [4]
Category: Smallville, Superman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Death of Superman, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-16 23:28:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8121754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarknightz/pseuds/lunarknightz
Summary: How do you remember a superhero?  Robin has a clue.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've taken quite a bit of liberty with Dick here (okay, I did not mean that how it sounded!) In the comics, when Superman died, Dick had grown up and become the hero Nightwing, while Tim Drake had handled the mantle of Robin. I, um, changed that. Because I could.

I did, you know, have other plans for this summer. 

And okay, most of them weren’t that exciting. Going to the water park with Wally, Garth, and Roy. Watching copious amounts of reality television, and beating every game ever created for X-Box. And that’s just in the daytime. 

Unlike school, my night job doesn’t quit for the summer. Crooks and criminals don’t exactly take a summer vacation. I wish they would. 

So the day after school lets out, Bruce storms into the den, where I’m kicking Bab’s butt at Halo 2 (For someone that spends their nights as a superhero, our dear Batgirl has no idea of strategy!), and turns off the T.V. 

“You have an internship in Metropolis for the Summer. Pack your bags, we leave tomorrow.”

He didn’t even ask, you know if I had other plans for the summer. Which, thank you very much, I did. I’m seventeen years old! I have a life! Hell, I have two identities! I was looking forward to a little downtime. But no…

Metropolis itself isn’t so bad. I’ve been here before, back when I was in the circus. Mom loved shopping here- she always said Metropolis had the best stores. I haven’t gotten a chance to see most of it, because hello, pulling double duty.

It’s a lot different than Gotham. No buildings at absurd angles. When you stand in an alleyway between buildings, you can look up and see the sun. There’s an excellent sanitation department here- I’ve yet to find an alleyway in Metropolis that smells as rank as any in Gotham . The air seems lighter here. 

I do miss Alfred, though. He stayed behind with Barbara, and is commando of the Bat Cave at the moment. And I hate doing my own laundry. I dyed all my underwear pink last week. Alfred has never dyed my underwear pink.

 

****

 

The job itself isn’t so bad. 

I’m a intern at the Daily Planet. Which basically means that I mess around with the copier a lot, and make, like a zillion trips to Starbucks a day. Oh, and I play Minesweeper. I rule at Minesweeper.

“Got my Mocha, Grayson?” Chloe Sullivan, one of the lead reporters on the paper says, breezing into the newsroom.

“Right here.” Extra whip cream, just like you like it.”

“You’re an angel.” She says with a smile. Chloe digs in her pocket and pulls out a five dollar bill, and places it my hand. “There you go.” 

“Chloe, Mr. White paid for the drinks…”

She shakes her head, and the corners of her mouth drift upwards slightly. “It’s a tip, Dick. Go buy yourself some comic books or whatever you kids are into these days. You deserve it, especially after you pulled up those articles on Batman for me.” She says with a smile. “Have you seen Lois?”

“She’s in some pow-wow with Mr. White.” I answer. “Something about the Superman tribute issue.”

“Right.” Chloe says. “That was this morning. I better get in there before bloodshed occurs.” She says with a groan. “Without Clark to be a buffer, Lois and Perry are like…”

“LANE!!!!” Mr. White yells, from his office. All activity in the newsroom suddenly stops. He’s louder today than usual. We can hear him with the door shut and Cat Grant’s MP3 collection of classic boy bands playing in the background. “WHY DO I EVEN KEEP YOU AROUND?”

“Dynamite.” Chloe says, rushing towards the office door.

I know that Chloe is part of the reason Bruce got me this job. 

Chloe was Superman’s fiancé. Yeah, officially she was engaged to Clark Kent, but Superman and Clark Kent are…were….the same person. I found that out the time that the Joker put a price on both Chloe and my heads….so Bruce hid us out in the Batcave for awhile. We became friends then, and after seeing her embrace Superman so enthusiastically when they returned…after countless hours of gushing over Clark Kent…I connected the dots. 

I found out later that she’d known that I was Robin the whole friggin time. 

Nothing gets past Chloe.

She’s the reason that Bruce is spending all this time in Metropolis- he promised Superman that he’d watch over Metropolis and Chloe. So I keep an eye on Chloe at work. I make stupid jokes (hey I’m friends with Wally, I’ve got a million of ‘em) and try to make her laugh. If she’s having a really bad day, I report into Bruce, and he takes it from there.

And, yeah, I look after Lois too. Lois is Chloe’s cousin, and a great photographer. She’s known mostly for her pictures of Superman- they were friends. She worked right beside Clark, and has been friends with Superman for years, but she’s never put two and two together and realized that they were the same person. 

Lois is an awesome lady; she’s just not the world’s greatest detective.

She is however, one of the most vocal women in the world.

“NO, PERRY! I DON’T WAN’T THAT PICTURE USED.” Lois yells as Chloe opens the door and steps inside.

There’s silence for a few moments, as Chloe proceeds to play peacemaker, I assume.

It doesn’t work, because now both Lois and Perry are yelling at the same time.

I’m gonna have to ask Bruce to lend me a pair of Bat Ear Plugs for work.

I tune out the yelling and go back to playing Minesweeper…until I’m caught in the act.

“Minesweeper, huh?” Chloe says from behind my shoulder. “Spider Solitaire’s a lot more intellectually stimulating, you know?”

At this point, I really want to let out a long string of cuss words as loud as Lois has been yelling. If I loose this job, Bruce will sink to a totally new level of broodiness that I haven’t even seen before, after, you know, he kicks my butt.

“Lighten up, Grayson. We all goof off at times. Sometimes Lois even plays at one of the online casinos. Perry doesn’t care, as long as we get our articles in on time. I need your help, so c’mon.”

She leads me into Perry’s office. Lois is standing by one end of Perry’s desk, her arms crossed. The look on her face is even broodier than Bruce’s- though I wouldn’t think that could be possible. But it is. Perry doesn’t look any happier. 

“Dick” Chloe says, motioning to the desk. “Pick out which picture should be on the front of our Superman tribute issue.” 

“Me? But I don’t, I mean, I…”

“It’s been like World War III meets the Jackson trial in here, okay? Lois, Perry, or I can’t exactly be objective to this. We all knew Superman pretty well, and some of us our letting either or feelings or our egos,” Chloe glares at Lois. “Get in the way of doing our jobs. So tell me which one you would pick. Which one would make you buy a paper?”

This was so not in the job description.

Chill, Grayson, Chill. You’ve faced down Killer Croc, Two Face, Poison Ivy, and the Joker. You can handle picking out a stupid picture.

Babs would laugh her ass off at you right now.

There’s dozens of photos to pick from. There’s Superman flying, Superman posing with children at the opening of an orphanage; Superman saving a kitty from a tree. It’s tempting to pick one of Chloe and Superman smiling at each other, but people might…you know, guess, with that one. 

“Did you take all of these, Lois?” I ask. Hey, I’m stalling for time here.

“Yup. All Lane originals.” 

There’s one picture I definetly don’t like. It’s Superman, dead on the ground, his body sprawled and bleeding. It strikes to close to home. That’s the last memory I have of my parents, of their bodies sprawled and bleeding on the floor of the tent. Just looking at the picture makes me want to gag.

That happened to Superman. Superman died. Superman. Superman wasn’t supposed to die.

They sent everyone home from school, that day. Came over the intercom, told everyone to go back to homeroom for immediate dismissal. Nobody said it, but if someone could kill Superman, why wouldn’t they take out Batman, and Gotham with it? Superman was supposed to be unbeatable. I knew all too well that Batman wasn’t. I didn’t think of myself, at that moment, of what might happen to me. I thought of Bruce. I thought of someone killing Bruce.

I broke down and ran for the bathroom. Alfred found me there a while later. Alfred always knows, somehow.

Bruce hugged me when I got home. It’s unspoken between us, but he’s more than a partner to me…he’s a father. And if anything ever happened to him, I don’t know what I’d do.

If anything ever happened to Bruce…how would I want him remembered?

I dig through the pictures, and then I find it.

The picture is simply of Superman’s tattered cape. The material that always seemed so bright and shiny is dull and ripped, smattered with blood in the photo. 

“This one.” I say, and my voice cracks a little. “This is the photograph you want.”

Lois and Perry gather around the picture.

Chloe begins to cry, softly. “That’s perfect.” She says, with tears falling down her face.

“Well done, my boy.” Perry says. “In all my years…I never would have thought, but this picture’s perfect.”

“Way to go, kiddo.” Lois says, patting me on the back. “You may have a future in journalism in front of you.”

I resist the urge to tell her that I am not a kid, I’m seventeen years old. I stopped being a kid years ago.

“It symbolizes what he stood for. And why he died.” I say in a quiet voice. “And that’s how any Superhero worth his salt would want to be remembered.”

It’s how _I_ would want to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted March 2005.


End file.
